


Golden Hour

by Project0506



Series: Soft Wars [26]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherhood, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Gen, Sass and Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23542576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506
Summary: Ponds has the unique privilege of seeing the Jedi Council in a way few do
Series: Soft Wars [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683775
Comments: 26
Kudos: 685





	Golden Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Based on that one Golden Hour picture, you know the one.
> 
> Never mind you don't have to know the one. I found it [here!](https://letoscrawls.tumblr.com/post/613961557384282112/they-definitely-take-golden-hour-pics-bonus)

It takes exactly three council meetings for Ponds to realize that the council are basically brothers. CC brothers, certainly, but brothers.

There’s this dignified, awe-inspiring mystique they show to senators, to the men under their command. But when eyes turn away from them them they’re everything Squad Shebs had ever been: assholes to their batchmates; alternatively doting on and being super assholes to their youngest; slipping little snide puns into serious discussions to try to make someone else crack a smile.

It’s really hard to stay intimidated by General Kolar, after seeing Master Koon advance on him wielding a hairbrush. It’s really hard to put General Allie on a pedestal when Ponds knows she’ll whine like a cadet that Master Billaba is being mean to her.

It’s easy to work for General Windu, knowing that on difficult days, he sneaks packets of some Outer Rim specialty teas into General Kenobi’s robe pockets as if anyone is fooled that he plays favorites.

General Yoda taps his cane on the floor and General Fisto falls silent.

“Mm,”General Yoda hums, eyes closed. “Ponder this, I must,” he says, and makes another one of those humming noises deep in his throat. “Tomorrow, we will continue.” He gives a third hum, and his cane taps deliberatively. “Golden hour, it is,” he finally offers.

“Lovely!” General Billaba cheers. Ponds startles out of the half-doze he’d fallen into and straightens.

As if it’s some sort of signal the council members are moving, arranging themselves in the center of the council chambers, shooting considering glances at the wall of transparisteel behind them. General Koon fiddles with the holorecorder.

“Ponds,” General Windu calls. “You too.”

Utterly bemused, Ponds wanders towards the milling masters, pulling his bucket off when General Windu taps at it meaningfully. “Ten second countdown,” General Koon warns and scrambles over to them. He tucks himself in on Ponds’ left, bracketing him next to his General.

Everyone pauses. The seconds seem extraordinarily long.

“This is the awkward part,” someone whispers and someone else giggles.

“Why don’t we ever _just get a droid-_ ”

The holorecorder whirs to life and runs through it’s image capture cycle five times, beeping after each. After the last the knot disperses as if it were some sort of signal, amicably squabbling as they go. Ponds drifts back to his position, not entirely sure what happened.

“ _Perhaps honored Master you should consider better awareness of where you’ve placed your limbs?”_

“ _And perhaps my dear Allie, you wouldn’t trod so heavily if you didn’t commandeer others’ slices of cake?”_

“ _Oh give it to the Force, Fisto.”_

Ponds comm pings with a message from his General. Helmet snugly back on his head, he opens the attached image.

It really is pretty, Ponds decides. Everyone seems almost glowing in the evening light and Ponds suddenly understands why General Yoda called it Golden Hour. Ponds himself doesn’t look quite as lost and confused as he felt. He saves the image to his private files. He can’t help feeling an odd sort of desire to see what he can do to get Bly back to Coruscant, get Wolfpack, Ghost and Torrent’s leaves to line up. Maybe he can talk the Shebse into taking their own Golden Hour picture somewhere.

“Commander?” Ponds falls into step with his general. “Late meal?” The master offers.

“ _Attachment, this is.”_

“ _I quite assure you Grandmaster I am perfectly willing to sacrifice cake for the good of the people, however-”_

Ponds grins helplessly. “Sounds good sir.”

“ _It was caff bean icing I’m sure the theft qualifies as high crimes...”_


End file.
